Give Thanks
by rkon09
Summary: Voldemort scoffed. Give thanks? That was his first thought of Thanksgiving until Harry came back with another stupid idea. ONESHOT SLASH


**Give Thanks:** Oneshot

 **Summary:** Voldemort scoffed. Give thanks? That was his first thought of Thanksgiving until Harry came back with another stupid idea. ONESHOT SLASH

 **Warning(s):** SLASH/YAOI

 **Pairing(s):** Voldemort/Harry, Tom/Harry

 **Spoiler(s):** None

-o-

"Speech"

'Thought'

 _Flashbacks and Dreams_

 _ **"Parseltongue"**_

 **A/N and etc**

-o-

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make any money writing this fanfiction.

 **A/N:** Wrote this the day after Thanksgiving, AKA Black Friday. Should I make a Black Friday fanfiction? Anyways, Voldemort does not look like the snake man. He looks like a young Tom Riddle in his twenties thanks to Harry. Also, **CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS OKAY BUT FLAMERS ARE NOT WELCOME**.

-o-

Voldemort snorted in his tea. He wouldn't admit he actually just did at the moment, but he didn't care. He looked at his calendar and sneered at the date. Thanksgiving. This was what the Americans celebrated these days, but he remembered. When he was a child, he knew that Thanksgiving wasn't a holiday in the Americas.

Anyways, he thought about the day. Turkey? No thanks. He'd rather eat those albino peacocks Lucius and their family cook. Give thanks? He scoffed. What was there to give thanks to?

They said you should give thanks to the people who birthed him and raised him... which probably wasn't a good idea. His mother died during his childbirth, the matrons hated him, and he killed his father's side of the family. Not much to give thanks.

Then it was giving thanks to friends, but Lord Voldemort does not have _friends_. Only enemies and allies.

Lastly, it was giving thanks to your husband or wife... maybe he _could_ be thankful for that. It's not like his lover does anything stupid and hurts his feelings.

The door slammed open and all the paperwork on the table flew. "Tom!"

Correction. He is not thankful for his lover at the moment.

"Let's celebrate Thanksgiving!"

Ah. There's the fact that his lover _does_ do meaningless stupid things. Last year, it was cosplaying as Santa and him being the Rudolph, but he wasn't going to delve much deeper on that time. The year before was when he was dunked in white paint and pretended to be a ghost. The year before that, his lover dressed up as a cupid for Valentines and shot him pink arrows. Overall, he seemed to do many stupid things.

"And, pray tell, why?" he replied silkily.

His lover smiled widely and clapped his hands together. "Because you have yet to give thanks to me!"

He raised an eyebrow.

He continued. "Every year, you tell me you love me but are you thankful for me? Maybe I should do an imitation of you. The Dark Lord's Consort will only love those who are thankful,"

"The Dark Lord's Consort will love only those who are thankful?" he repeated. "What kind of stupid notion is that? Love, did you hit your head somewhere hard?"

The Dark Lord's Consort hit his arm. "No, you twit!" he took out a sack from his seemingly endless pocket and brought something out, oh goodness no.

His lover killed a fucking turkey and brought it here. He fucking brought a turkey... but if his lover cooked it... then it can't be that bad.

"Will it taste good?" goodness gracious, someone shut his miserable mouth before he said something strange!

His lover suddenly stopped talking and looked at him and grinned.

"Righty-O!" he mock-saluted and said, "One Thanksgiving dinner coming right up, with a _special_ dessert,"

Special? Special? What was the 'special dessert'? He opened his mouth to ask when he noticed that his lover was already out of the room. He growled and took his wand out and waved it around, making all the paper go back to their original places.

Voldemort nodded to himself at the clean room and went to his bedroom to change his clothes to meet his beautiful lover.

Scratch that. His lover wasn't beautiful. He was _gorgeous_. Although he was short because of the malnourishment from his _lovely_ relatives, it made him look even more delectable. Shoulder length raven hair was tied in a ponytail in the back with some parts framing his pale face. His feminine face and aristocratic looks fit him perfectly with the bright emerald green eyes and rosy lips.

His naturally slim and petite body had an apron on it, covering the front but not the back. Too bad he was wearing clothes under it. If he wasn't... stop it Lord Voldemort does not drool.

Unfortunately, he let his eyes wander lower where his lover's curves were more defined with the skinny leather pants with the long legs that walked towards him. Yep. He was indeed gorgeous.

"Tom?"

Voldemort snapped out of his gazed and coughed awkwardly.

"Yes?" he replied.

"I was so sure that you were staring at me as if you wanted to devour me instead of the turkey in my hands,"

"Ah," Voldemort said. "The dinner, yes. Come sit with me,"

His lover smiled and put the turkey down on the table where all the other dishes were already put and proceeded to take off his apron. If only that wasn't the only article of clothing he took off. He watched intently as he took out his own chair and sat in it.

"Shall we start eating, my dear?" his lover said. Voldemort nodded and watched as the slim hands begin to cut the turkey.

The turkey was delicious. It was cooked and there were strange stuffings inside, but he didn't really focus on the food. He was more focused on his lover who seemed oblivious to the staring and continued to eat.

Finally, he put his fork down quietly and put his hands in his lap.

He said, "What is this _special_ dessert you speak of?"

His lover chewed on his food quietly then swallowed. He said, "Well it's _special_ and it is a _surprise_ ,"

He watched as he put his fork down and wiped his lips with his napkin, then put it back onto the table neatly.

"Let us return to our bedroom," was the hint that whatever dessert he was getting wasn't really a _food_ dessert. "The _special_ dinner will be served there."

-o-

Voldemort watched as his lover took his jacket off, then his collared shirt, showing his unblemished pale skin, then proceeded to use the same agonizingly slow pace to take off his pants. When he was finished, naked like the day he was born, Voldemort admired the view and proceeded to do the same to himself, except at a faster pace.

Yep, he was thankful. He was thankful for his lover and for ending that blasted war. He truly was thankful for Harry Potter and him alone.

-o-

 **A/N:** I tried to write. I tried to write. I tried to write. Anyways, I abandoned all my old accounts for this because of all the flamers telling me about how horrible my grammar is, but my first language isn't English. I didn't add any lemons because I have no idea how to, but this idea just popped into my head, like why not?


End file.
